


1960s, no Winter Soldier

by fandom_filth



Series: AUgust Winterwolf/Loganbucky [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - No Hydra, Bucky still lost his arm though, Canon Disabled Character, Immortality, M/M, Mutant Powers, bucky was never captured, powers reveal, steve was never in the ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_filth/pseuds/fandom_filth
Summary: What would have happened if HYDRA never imprisoned Bucky after his fall?  If they saved his life only for him to be rescued and brought home?  If Steve could read German enough to land a plane?And what would happen, 20 years later, if Bucky noticed his lover still looks the same?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Logan (X-Men)
Series: AUgust Winterwolf/Loganbucky [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861825
Kudos: 16





	1960s, no Winter Soldier

"Can I ask you something?" Bucky asked one evening, camping on one of their summer getaways. No one thought anything of two old army buddies taking off for a few days, nor of them living together since they were both unmarried. It was an efficient system.  
"Sure." Logan's hand twitched with the urge to just use a claw to cut the fat away from the meat he was roasting. After 20 years, though, it was second nature to force himself to use the actual knife.  
Bucky watched him intently, familiar with that little twitch though he never knew what it meant. "I've known there was something different about you for years now, y'know? How you made it through the war without a scratch - not even a single scar - when I know you took worse hits than any of us."  
"You lost a goddamn arm. I think you win." Logan lookedup at him and frowned. "What brought this on?"  
"I was just thinking. Over here looking at old pictures of us and the Commandoes, and realized . . . you don't look any different. This one here's dated 1942 and we must've gotten it from your brother, but look at it." Bucky held it up.  
Logan didn't bother to confirm it, but based on who he recognized in the background - Silas - they most certainly had gotten this one from Victor. "I age well."  
"You don't age." Bucky corrected. "Or you haven't in twenty years. It's 1962 and you still look like this. If anything you look younger when you shave. Are you . . . I know you were with the Canadian forces, are you a supersoldier? Like Steve? Is that why they let you ride with us?"  
It was a loaded question. Answering it would have been as much of a threat to their safety as a superior office discovering their relationship during the war. Canada denied that they had any knowledge of supersoldiers; Logan had been told not to reveal himself to the Americans or he could be discharged. The threat meant little to him, but he'd have to kill off whoever found out the truth. He couldn't risk going back to Weapon X. Bucky knew it wasn't safe. That was why he hadn't asked before. But it was different now, twenty years later, no one really remembering who they were. They couldn't be drafted again. Their army days were over.  
No dodging it this time, then. Logan steeled himself and sat back on the ground. "Yes, no, and no."  
"What?"  
"I am a supersoldier, but it's nothing like Steve, and no, that's not why they let me ride with you. nobody technically _let_ me - I was AWOL most of the war."  
Bucky scoffed aloud and rubbed his face. "Of fucking course you were. Explains how you got away with violating dress code."  
Logan gave an empty little smile. "Yeah. Well." It faded as quickly as it had come and he just stared into the fire.  
His lover softened a bit and tilted his head, brushing his long hair back away from the fire. "So what is it like?"  
A breeze fluttered the fire and Logan took the opportunity to readjust the roasting meat. "It's . . . it wasn't an experiment. Or a project. It's just . . . me, I guess. There's people out there with abilities normal humans don't have."  
"I did work with Steve." Bucky said dryly. "I met Dracula in person. I know there's people out there that the general populace can't know about. You're saying you have some kind of inherent abilities? Like . . . that genetics thing Wilkes was going on about."  
"Yeah, something like that." Logan raised an eyebrow at him. "You're remarkably calm considering I've been lyin' to you for the past twenty years. Most of which time we've been lovers."  
Bucky shrugged and nibbled off one of the plums they'd brought along. "I knew you were hiding something. I knew it wasn't safe to know. But it's 1962 and nobody knows our names. There's nobody else out here. Now I can ask."  
Logan nodded slowly and looked back down at the fire. "Yeah, I've . . . had it for a long time. The first time I knew I was ten."  
"What's 'it'?" Bucky asked without waiting this time for Logan to pause. "I know you've got some super strength and healing. The way you grip sometimes . . . the war." He didn't have to elaborate. They really didn't speak of the war much, preferring to keep moving forward.  
"Wait." Logan blinked. "The way I - oh, God." His gaze flashed up to Bucky's, gray eyes going pale silver. "Please say you've always told me when I hurt you."  
"I have." Bucky assured him gently. "Especially with the knives in the bed. Which I'm guessing are connected somehow."  
Logan relaxed somewhat and grimaced. "Yeah. I know it used to upset you, that you couldn't find the blades, that I wouldn't get rid of 'em."  
"You promised me it was because you couldn't. I trust you. If it's something you need . . ." Bucky began.  
"Not . . . exactly." Logan sighed deeply and straightened out his left wrist, staring at it as he slowly extended all three claws to their limit.  
"Dear God." Bucky's eyes shot wide. "Those are -"  
"Bones." Logan rumbled. He couldn't take his eyes from the metal.  
"Bones?"  
Logan pulled them back in abruptly with a wince, shaking his hand to cool it. "Back in the '30s, an organization called Weapon X hired me. It's . . . no, that's not right." He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "They had me for a long time before that. They . . . added metal to those in the '30s. And to . . . everything else."  
"What?" Bucky's voice fell to a hush.  
"They melted it down. Stuck . . . tubes inside. Big fucking needles . . . I don't remember much." Logan didn't look at him. "It hurt. One of the worst things I've ever felt. Molten metal grafting on . . ." He flexed both hands and clenched them into fists.   
"How are you alive?"  
"I love that you don't doubt me." Logan looked up with a rare, soft smile. "It sounds like bullshit even sayin' it. I heal - insanely fast. Those holes in my shirts in the war . . . they were wounds for a minute. I wasn't lucky enough to get missed. Shots landed more often than not. They just . . ." He spread his hands. "Couldn't take me out."  
Bucky swallowed hard but nodded, lips pursed. "That's why you couldn't tell anyone. They might try to put you in a lab . . ."  
"Again." Logan snorted and shook his head. "No. I hid it to protect you. They can't kill me. Can only hurt me through you - the unit, anyway. I made sure they never found out about you and me."  
"How long have you known?" Bucky asked carefully.  
"Since the Civil War."  
Bucky choked on air. "You _what!?_ "  
Logan smiled a bit bitterly and took a swig of his beer. "I wasn't young then." He looked intently over at his lover. "This is about when I start pulling away, generally. People will start asking questions about me. Roles reverse, people start raising their eyebrows at you for bein' with a 'younger man'. Best if I just drift off before that happens. Find my brother." He drank again to suppress a visible reaction, already aching - he'd stayed for twenty years this time.  
"What the _hell_ , Logan." Bucky snapped. "Are you - are you fucking leaving me right now? Really? On our fuckin' romantic vacation?"  
Logan blinked. "No." He repeated it more firmly. "No! I'm not - I just . . . we may not have a choice much longer. I have to go, but you don't have to uproot everything just to -"  
"What if I _want to_?" Bucky demanded. "Fuck, Logan, _I love you_! I never got the chance to be with the first man I loved, and now, I have to sit here while he leads his perfect little life with his wife - "  
"And her boyfriend." Logan muttered.  
"Do _not_ bring Sousa into this!" Bucky shot to his feet and threw up his hand. "God, Logan! I'm so tired of this! I love Steve, will always love him, and I'm glad he's happy, but it is exhausting pretending I never wanted more. I don't get to confess to him because he's still a goddamn public figure. But baby, I love you, and you're okay with that, and I am not letting you go just because some other people might get suspicious. When you go, I'm going with you."  
Logan's shoulders slumped with defeat and he rubbed his face again. A deeply uncharacteristic whine from his throat brought Bucky down to one knee beside him. He looked at his lover and sighed, reaching over to pet his cheek. "You don't get it, do you, darlin'?" He said softly.  
"What are you talking about?" Bucky's frustration still bled into his tone, though his concern kept him kneeling at his lover's side.  
"I wasn't trying to leave you." Logan looked directly at his soft brown eyes and smiled, a little amused despite himself. "You fucking idiot. I was asking you to come with me, selfish man that I am."  
Bucky blinked. "I hate you."  
"I hate you too." Logan grinned crookedly and kissed his forehead. "I do mean it, though. I have to leave soon, but I want you to come with me."  
"That reminds me. Selfish?" Bucky prompted, raising his eyebrows.  
"You're 45, darlin'." Logan said, shaking his head. "How much time do we have left? You'd be uprooting your entire life for the chance to be . . . a few more years of mine. My very long, centuries to go life. How is that fair to you? Having to grow old - older -" He grinned when Bucky punched him for that. "While I drag you around the world, unchanging?"  
Bucky sighed and sat properly beside him now. "Sounds like fun."  
"You're serious right now."  
"Deadly. Let's go." Bucky kissed his bearded cheek. "Wanna go see what they're up to in Romania these days?"  
"I was thinking Russia."  
"Only if we go in summer. You know how I feel about the cold. Y'know, icy ravine, forgot an arm there, you remember."  
Logan grinned crookedly and gave up fighting the urge to yank his lover down in a fierce kiss. "I love you, asshole."  
"I love you too."

Late that night, Bucky suddenly propped himself up from their bedroll. "Dear God, you've been hiding three entire bones from me for twenty years?!"  
Logan groaned. "Six. It's both hands. Shut up and go to sleep."  
Bucky spluttered a little. "Do you know how helpful those things would have been this whole time?!"  
His lover rolled over to look at him flatly. "Yeah, I _know_. Not using 'em for so long is a bit like losing a limb." He said pointedly. "And I do use them in combat, damn the consequences, so don't fuss too much. Sleep."  
" _Twenty years_ you chose not to use them -"  
"Yes. To protect you, because they're distinctive and there are people who would pay a lot of money to make me angry enough to use them." Logan grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down, moving over to lay a heavy arm on top of him. "Now go the fuck to sleep, will you?"  
Bucky grunted at his weight but his remaining arm reached up to cross Logan's anyway. "Fine. We're talking about this in the morning."  
"Good night, James Buchanan Barnes."  
"Good night, James Logan Howlett."

**Author's Note:**

> Mind you, life expectancy in 1930 was mid fifties to early sixties. Bucky was born in 1917, canonically, was poor during the Great Depression, worked as a child laborer, AND endured serious bodily and mental trauma during the war. Logan's no doctor, but he's already been around long enough to know it's entirely likely he won't have Bucky much longer.


End file.
